simply put...

Mark Antony new what he was doing.  Richard Burton in his dying quest new what he was doing.  Lancelot new that he was doomed.  Napoleon was way out of his league with Josephine.  We all know that Pierre no matter how intelligent and scholarly he was Marie Curie was just that much more outstanding.  Everyone always remembers the first kiss but honestly how many of you remember that second kiss?  That girl who just rocked your socks who made your hands sweaty.  Who made your heart skip a beat.  The one who didn’t steal your breath away but rather the one that held it for you while you realized that you were fucked.

Okay so maybe this is written from a guys point of view but trust me when I tell you it is written more from observation than anything else.  Take for instance tonight, in the great city of Bordeaux at midnight, a nameless woman walked in with a man whose name is Akin.  Nice guy, friendly, oblivious to the world.  Eyes only for his Cleopatra.  Within them you could sense fear, loss, hate, horror.  Is that love? I found myself asking that question.

Here was a guy who could very easily wipe the floor with most of the people that looked at him wrong much less his Cleopatra.  What was bothering me?  Maybe that this was not a carefree woman.  This was a woman, not happy.  A woman who thought she was better than my new friend Akin.  She paraded around like Elizabeth trying to reach the inner rage of a man content in love.  Why?  For what reason would someone break a glass half full?

Life is ideal, while my heart is full it is blistered with reason.  Yet, here in this city of life, this city of love, in life the romance of the day is not built on the scars of the heart.  Instead is is built on the ideal belief that one half does not make a whole.  

“A man should say to his soul every morning God has given thee twenty four treasures.  Take heed lest thou lose anyone of them for thou will not be able to endure the regret that will follow such loss.”  James Dean

So maybe in the cold of the night while two people cuddle in a room the romance doesn’t have to come by reason.  It should not take the warmth of a soul to teach us what is grand.  What is beautiful.  Love can be etched by the simplicity of a child riding his bicycle while his Grandfather watches protectively.  It can be desired through a picture of time.  Not a perfect picture because Prince once said, “The beautiful ones always break the picture.”  

Have been in Europe for over a week now and realize much.  Michigan will never win a National Title while I am out of the Country.  Sorry guys, they are O for 2 now.  However a Father hugging his son has no limits of time.  What my heart has learned is there is a beauty that requires a heart to be stolen.  A river will alway bleed to an ocean of thought but the thought will never find a river of tears.  Stolen moments have a reason.

As this glorious night comes to a close, this town whose lights create the shadow of adoration, remember to steal the heart, steal the moments, mark the moments.  Sure take a picture but memory is served best.  Memory will tell you those who stole your heart and what you learned from them.  It will also tell you that when that little girl tells you, “Daddy when are you coming home?”  Your heart breaks open with reason.

I wonder why life’s love stories have to be tragic?  Rain of Gold was a reason for a child to remember his fathers last breath.  It was his heart breaking reading the words of a great love story.  We live on the autonomy of time and that a great love story doesn’t exist.  It does be witness to it!  Find your treasures, fill your cup of coffee, read the note of love.  Don’t sweat the small stuff, dance as if no one’s watching, Love as if its all you know, and dream as if you’ll live forever, Live as if you’ll die today.  Prophetic words by James Dean but he had a point.  

Love won’t tell you.  Your heart won’t either.  It won’t make the world go round.  Your mind will keep you sane but always allow your self to believe.  

Sometimes the rivers do flow and you don’t have to be blind to see...inspired by the words of my daughters Sophia and Sicilia, “I love you Daddy...Me too Daddy” 

Not ready to exit just yet...

Walking down the corridor of thought realized that time has always been on my side.  Time sometimes is all we need, to find a reason.  “I have been searching the edge of sanity to find myself.”  No such luck.  Sanity begins in the reflection of the mirror, there is nothing wrong with living.  Life is meant to have scratches, bruises, maybe a little bit of blood, it is meant to have scars.  What we learn from them truly defines who we are.

I can’t recall the last time a pillow looked so inviting.  It was there just screaming my name, it was an invitation to dreaming.  The TV blaring, my dreams were running towards me.  Music serenading my indulgence while the horizon changed  from my dreams to morning coffee of thoughts.

I wanted to fantasize about tomorrow!  Tomorrow couldn’t get here fast enough.  The sands of the hour glass showing the seconds of time, I can see the other side, just not ready to exit yet.  I know where my heart is...

Suddenly the alarm is whaling, screaming, and my thoughts come rushing to me.  People are talking around me and it seems they are oblivious.  My head is spinning and desperately search the room wondering where I am.  Coffee where are you?

There in the corner of the room sitting idle is a shadow of yesterday trying to escape the demons that hold us captured.  We argue with ourselves as to why?  Its amazing that people lecture about when you get to the gates of St. Peters you will know about your soul.  While its a laughable comment, seriously, what’d you do?  Die and come back to tell us there are these pearly gates waiting for my soul?  

Not at all if my soul could escape from me, it would have bought a ticket to ride a long time ago.  Instead of waiting for some magical pearly gates make peace with yourself.  Find a reason to let your pride runaway from you and stare at the reflection in the mirror, what do you see?  

A man, confounded to a world that has taught him to survive.  To care for the wounds, to understand the bruises, to live through the scratches, and to walk through this ordinary world with a lit bit of blood finding a reason to exist in his own skin.  We learn to survive not because of fight but because of reason.

So why not pack your bags?  Why not catch a ride to the end of your mind?  Life, it ticks away, second by second, and all we can do is see it for what it is.  Meanwhile the world decides to psycho analyze the moment, I will be at the edge of insanity with a cup of coffee, a cigar, a good book understanding that life has not left my soul yet.  

I spent the last year trying to understand people.  Trying to understand what makes people act holy.  Bible thumping is overrated if you do not believe in it.  Why should I punish my heart for believing?  I won’t say goodbye to those who seem fit to be self righteous, smile at them and scream without raising your voice.  Life is truly funny.  

If the price of my smile was living; then this time my friends my world will be one.  Sure the sands of the hour glass continues pebble by pebble, but let me tell you so does my soul....one second at a time.   

I learned that this world is bigger than me...

Some days life rolls on and on others it sort of speeds by like a bullet to the head.  Who would have ever thought that almost a year ago a Human Resource Director would leave a file on a table for everyone to read?  A bullet to the gut and then you realize the value of a man.  

The only one who stands here with me is King Lear and he by all means has no reason other than to give.  He gave his heart, his soul, his life, for what?  The King of Fools he picked up his soul and became a melody to time and his own shadow.  

Every day we wake up with the hopes that today is the day life changes.  Sometimes we wait all our lives to discover how we have failed.  No one to blame but the looking glass.  “I have no one to blame but myself!”  Not enough fingers and toes for the amount of times this has been repeated by the truth of life.  Then that day arrives, the one, the one which starts with the sound of an alarm.  Good morning!

Found myself having dinner with my son, he is finding a reason to stand tall in this life, smiles with eyes full of hope.  Being Dad has been the hardest part of my life and being one without living in the footsteps of another has changed the way I breath and walk.  Never to live without regret, standing tall with the wrong and the good of my life allows me to stitch my scars together to be one.

Today the morning started off with my insanity to yesterday.  She is gracious, loving, and hopeful in finding her way through life.  One can only applaud such intricate strength.  A mother lives to feed her child the bosom of life, to protect them from the evils that were placed upon her journey.  It is called being a mother!  

A father is to define strength, to protect the children by teaching them to not fear life.  My father taught me to stay awake.  To live to work.  And live to work my life went, my father did not fail me.  He taught me resilience, he gave me reason.  While most of my life I argued that it was my mother who taught me empathy, all along it was my father.  My mother taught me how to extend my hand.  

So what was my valuable lesson, “this world is bigger than me...”  there are people who need that extra hand to live.  I am able to breath and find my own melody in this world.  While my life now is about working to live, there is no wrong or shame in living.  To do so with the infectious love of your friends and family is what this life is above all the most priceless journey of all.

I like a nice cup of coffee and a good cigar in the morning.  Its who I have become.  The feeling of Jazz in my life is to forget that a soul put a value on what my existence was.  Last night I had what one would hope to be my final dream of that file.  In my dream the file read as such, “100 pennies is still a Dollar, however 1 penny does not buy me my sense of life.  Neither a nickel, dime, or quarter, for my life is judged in the words to live by, “Love you Dad!”

While my scatter brain often works in the most dysfunctional ways, these words are for my son Andrew.  Your worth is within your heart.  Never let anyone put a value on who you are or where you came from.  Love is all around you.  Find it in your own heart.  Find it in your family.  Find it in your friends.  But more importantly always know that I will forever love you for being Andrew.  

Mr. Alberico.

You take my breath away

A pretty bad writers block can make you go hmmm?  Even though the silence in this head has been not!  The letters and words just never seemed to have a flow.  Never one for catchy phrases or outward mobility to my thoughts, the words usually find form in my heart.  Lately the heart has been an inner voice threatening to burst from its seams.

I finally get to sit in my little terrace at Alberico Fine Wine and enjoy a cup of superman, a cigar, and Enrique Iglesias serenading the hustle and bustle of 10th and 495.  Cars running on empty, horns honking the ears off the sunrise.  The view from this private room, all mine.  

What makes today any different than yesterday?  A day older.  A day wiser.  Nah!  Today you take my breath away.  The music blends in with morning rays, and the serenity is beyond a description from this mind.  

My sense of pride with life has swelled to the point that blisters fill the heart with a wanton desire for the simple things.  Never will I long for your attention for the fight in me is to keep you sane.  When your heart aches it will be I who will reach to the sky and set straight the sun and the moon in there bitter argument for your attention.  

Today however, it is the moment of truth.  A split second from insanity, a minute of time, an hour of life, a day in my thoughts.  I love that which is the breath that escapes.  The mirror which makes me accountable.  So what does this all mean?  

In short, when I stare at you, memories wash over me much like the levy breaking.  From the time that those first words escaped my lips, to the moment after I walked off the baseball field, to the day that you stood next to me as the Doctor explained to you about my chances for another tomorrow.  The look on your face explained a love that only a Father could ever understand.

When you drove up and stood in your own quiet thoughts, it was the smile in my face of a son whose only wish was that of seeing yours.  Yes, my shinning moment.  Yes, the look of a man with callous hands from a hard days life, the weathered face of time, the soul of his father inside us both.  

“You can shave!  A haircut would also help!”  And just like that my cavities, the wrinkle of my time spread across my face.  Staring at this dream together it is in the here and now that life has come full circle, where I now understand why.

To you my father, Jose Aberico Ramos, thank you.

Ricardo “Ricky” Ramos  

Being Andy Pettitte

On June 15, 1972 in Baton Rouge, Louisiana a human being with truth was born.  Not one with a spine but with truth.  Andy Pettitte is most famously known as helping the New York Yankees in the post season, with 19 wins and more importantly 5 wins in the World Series.  This would easily qualify him as one of Marvel Comics new super hero.  

What makes Andy truly special is his life.  To many people stand on a podium and speak volumes about this and that, they preach a belief, or more importantly they speak about a righteousness that does not exist in an ounce of their bones.  This is what separates Andy from the rest of us.  

August 19, 2010 Roger Clemens gets indicted for perjury during Congressional hearings for the Mitchel Report on steroid use during his playing career.  To me this is humorous that he would be indicted for lying to what we all know are the truly professional liars, politicians.  Seriously, if a politician is moving his lips, chances are nothing coming out is the truth.  

We have become such a pompous society that we think we are superior from others.  “The corruption in Mexico is out of control.”  George W. Bush.  Seriously?  The difference between Mexico and United States is we just hide it a little better.  Over the last 30 years the price of oil in the United States has gone up twice, first under Father Bush and the next time under Jr. Bush.  This doesn’t make them guilty of any crime unless they happen to have financial gains from this.  

Now unless your head has been under the sand they are one of the largest oil families in the United States.  Does this make them guilty?  Or does this make them corrupt?  It can be spun to be beneficial.  The point is it is morally wrong that as the leaders of this country they would capitalize from an act they provoked.  Don’t get me started on Dick Chenney and Haliburton.

Irony is that it would be the Bush Family who would support whole heartedly Roger Clemens.  Did he lie?  I’m not going to go out on a plank or limb, but the answer is quite simple.  Yes!  Not because of the the trainer McNamee testimony but because of Andy Pettitte.  

This man who aspires to greatness in God and himself.  His friendship with Clemens is infamous.  They roomed together, families vacationed together, played golf together, and they were best friends.  Then Clemens expected Andy to fib.  To lie about what actually happened.  

These are life altering moments.  This is when a man can truly define the power of that word!  

I’m from a podunk community in South Texas that epitomizes small town America, where life is about watching the sun rise and the sun set.  In small towns you can’t run over the neighbors cat without it being front news in the local paper.  Least you realize the differences in opportunity.  

Not that long ago I took the time to reformulate my life; to make changes within myself to be a better person.  My days that are left in this world had to be about living to give someone a smile, so I changed.  This means that if I see wrong in life I have to speak up, I can no longer sit idle and allow people to be advantages of friends or strangers.

In my small little town there are people who are still trying to live their glory days through others.  My biggest gripe while clearly aimed at our School Board Members is a side note to the bigger problem.  Yes, we have people that once you give them a title they become power mongers.  The worst thing about this is we allow it to happen.  

Did we forget that the State saw the corruption and sent a monitor to teach us how to manage properly.  He has not been gone six months and the level of corruption is at an all time high.  I vote to eliminate the school board.  I vote that we allow the state to run our schools.  You ask why?

Simple.  I am about being fair.  I do not believe in righteousness.  I believe that if you are guilty you have to pay a penalty.  This past year has seen some incredible things occur with in the athletics department.  It has seen the schools achieve incredible heights.  The school board members would have you believe it was because of them.  I’m sorry guys.  Wake up.  

If you are having an affair its called, cheating!  If you interfere with the daily functions of a school because of your title to protect your personal interest.  Its called a conflict of interest.  If you feel your above the words of the people that voted you in, you will be ousted in the next election cycle.  

When the kids bond together to protest the decisions of a school board, we are not suppose to oppress them by sending all the administrators there to prevent them.  We are to praise them for seeing the wrong that you have gestated.  I am not Andy Pettitte by any stretch, but my children go to school here, my family works within the school district.  Yes, I care about what is going on.  Yes, I am going to make my voice heard.  

No I am not going to sit idol.  When asked if he ever saw his friend Roger Clemens do steroids Andy Pettitte’s answer was no.  When asked who introduced him to it and who claimed to be doing it, he also answered truthfully.  

The truth to this rant is such, “There are few Andy Pettitte’s in this world.  No one wakes up to be righteous.  However your voice is protected by law.  If you voice a concern, if you want to oppose the status quo, it is protected by law.  Yesterday oppression arrived in an ugly form, corruption.  Corruption by power hungry people that have lost sight of what truly matters.”  

Note:  This is not an article to promote one political party over the next.  This is about speaking the truth and injustice of what has transpired at Edcouch-Elsa.  This is about not being quiet anymore.  There is an old saying if the truth stings a little its probably because the man in the mirror is broken.  

Look Ma! No Hands!

This is an article I wrote for my mother last year for Mothers Day. In our family it became sort of a cool thing.  Mom read the article to everyone of her friends then those friends layed into their sons my friends.  So what started out as a tribute to my Mother became Rick's spiral into getting his friends pissed off at him.  

This is for all the Mothers today that have had a son like me.  One that drives you to the brink but you will always know his heart is in the right place.  Enjoy my tribute to my Mother.

John Mayer ventures to suggest that we dream with a broken heart.  He even also believes that you have to fall asleep with roses in your hand.  Can this guy just call his mother for guidance?  Yes indeed its that time of the year where we look to Ma.  We remember the first time that she kissed the boo boo or the time when she held you and told you time heals all wounds.  She meant well so make sure you buy her roses.

When Mother’s Day is upon us think of the following things, with out realizing your own mortality, this woman gave you life.  This woman suffered through the pain and agony of giving you your first breath.  This is also the woman whose soul will never judge you.  She is by far the only woman who will champion your life, right or wrong.

Its not a bad gig.  Mom.  A definition of what we all aspire but can never reach.  For instance my mother, I call her the “Tony Soprano” of the Day Care world.  Before you brilliant ones go out and call the state about this, it is meant as the highest form of flattery to my mother.  A woman whose highest level of education was the 9th grade.  She married and had four children, a boy and three girls, yes I have suffered all of my life with women.

Time never stood still for my mother, she just grew fashionably with it through the years.  She wanted to open a Day Care, I feel more out of the fact that she was all ready baby sitting all of her grandchildren while the parents went to work.  Than a desire, enter “Tony Soprano.”   “Why not make a little bit of money if I have to watch these kids?”

Then the shock of my adult life happened.  The woman who had not seen a text book in years found one to read instead of throwing it at me.  She studied and got her GED.  That was awesome.  She didn’t quit there, oh not this lady, College was next.  Years later, the woman has enough hours to not simply say she is a College student but also a sophomore add an accomplished Business Woman.

Yes this is my mother.  A lady who I don’t see as often as I should.  A woman who when I do visit, it will be an automatic conversation that starts with our typical, “And who are you?”  This is a woman who gave me my first breath.  This is a woman who a couple of years ago I asked to be my Valentine.  Yes, she called me, she explained to me her utter surprise when the flowers were delivered.  More importantly the words, “You made my day!”  No Mom, you made my life!

Now that I have explained the building up of my mother let me give you the secrets of the dark side.  Yes I am smiling and smirking, knowing full well the amount of grief that will be coming my way.  When I was 16 years of age, this genius decided to go well, drinking.  Shock!  Yeah I was a light weight even then, two beers and done.  To this day my sympathy to Oscar and Benny, wait not true, to Benny for walking me inside the house.  Oscar weenied out.

Benny was the responsible older friend who walked into the house or the boiling pot.  Inside he apologized to my mother and father for keeping me out so late.  They weren’t buying it but still at that age it showed the depth of Benny’s character.  He is a very good man.  Note to self take Benny drinking.

Back at the farm, Dad was happy I was safe and home, Mom on the other hand could smell a rat.  “Have you been drinking?”  Note to all of you, Mom’s never ask questions they all ready know the answer to.  “NO”  This was about five seconds before I ate it.  Lost my balance and well the rest as she said was history.  

Getting in trouble was not what sticks out the most from that moment, it was during the night.  She kept walking into my room to see if I was okay.  To make sure nothing bad happened to me.  The love of a mother.  In the morning when the daylight hit, she was no longer Mom, she was the warden there to punish the offender.  

Punishment came in the form of chores that well were worse than one could imagine.  My official duties of being a bus driver for my sisters began.  That in itself should have been considered corporal punishment but I learned a valuable lesson.  Its taken me my entire adult life to realize that it was in me from that day.  Be responsible.

Such a strong word.  Be responsible!  An open meaning to define at liberty.  An old tale, change your drawers in case if your in an accident.  My personal favorite, Dad teaches son to throw a baseball, teaches him how to stay off a bad pitch, how to get a jump on the pitcher to steal second.  He teaches him how to play baseball, what does the son do when the TV cameras are on him?  “Hi Ma.  Look no hands.  I love you!”  

To my mother who continues to be an inspiration.  Who defines my thoughts, my sincerity, and my obligatory heart to love.  This article is for your undying defense of my soul and heart.  I love you.  Happy Mothers Day.  Salut!